


Flip Book

by firbolging



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Resurrection Ritual, Widojest Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firbolging/pseuds/firbolging
Summary: If Caleb was seeing his whole life repeated, she sent a quick, silent prayer to the Traveler. Bring him back, yes, but also, if possible, do not make him relive the worst moments. Keep it to the good stuff. The sweet food. The jokes. The dancing.What a good dancer her wizard was.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 26
Kudos: 100
Collections: Widojest Week 2020





	Flip Book

Jester breathed in.

The cold rarely pierced her skin; never rattled her bones. Friends and foes had shivered in the snow while she threw herself onto her back and left a winged imprint of her body. If her hopeful eyes had not deceived her, Caleb had once taken a twig and outlined her shape beside his runes. His hands must have been cold then. They were cold now.

Stories had fashioned the foundations of her learning. One thing she had learnt from multiple stories was that in the moment before death, your whole life flickered before your eyes. Like a flip book. She had not experienced any flickering yet, but perhaps she had not wandered close enough to dying. Or perhaps it was a myth.

If Caleb was seeing his whole life repeated, she sent a quick, silent prayer to the Traveler. Bring him back, yes, but also, if possible, do not make him relive the worst moments. Keep it to the good stuff. The sweet food. The jokes. The dancing.

What a good dancer her wizard was.

Pages began to flip.

The first dance they’d shared had been tarred, originally, by the slip of a tongue. Another woman’s name. It was a sharp push back. The teasing and flirting which had come so naturally to her before, became apprehensive. She’d flushed violet at the merest hint of that memory for months on end. How foolish she’d felt, for thinking that Caleb would be focused on her fluttering eyelids and fancy footsteps. The stench of alcohol rippled from him, while the vision of his past love seemingly rippled from Jester.

“What a blur that night was,” he said to her during their next dance.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” said Jester. “I know you said you don’t _love_ her anymore, but she must still be very important.”

They swirled together at the Lavish Chateau. Her skirt mushroomed around her as he lifted his arm to spin her.

Once she was back in his arms, he said, “It’s a little, ah, more complicated than that.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad. And I’m sorry. I can promise you that I will never confuse you for another woman ever again.”

“Good,” she teased, tongue between her teeth.

On the edge of flirting. Toeing the line.

Jester had taken to lingering in Caleb’s room at the Xhorhaus. It was quiet, secluded, and usually, where Caleb was. She reasoned that he must be in desperate need of company, cooped up alone with only books and Frumpkin for company.

Caleb would sit on the floor and practice his runes. Jester would draw until she got distracted by the crease between his brows. For a man with such a keen mind, he went to such great lengths to be methodical. She had seen him commit a whole page to memory with little more than a glance. He was so careful, she thought. So needlessly careful. There was something so sweet about it. So Caleb.

“Teach me the Zemnian Waltz?” she asked.

Jester had never attempted that particular dance. From what she had seen, read, and heard, it took all the romance of a regular waltz and packaged it into a clipped twirling of control.

Caleb took a moment to process her question, before replying, “I’m not exactly a master.”

“But you know it, right?”

“Ja. I know it.”

Her trepidation had faded along with her violet flush. She fluttered her eyelids.

Caleb let out a long sigh, rolling up his sleeves, “Alright.”

“Well, if it’s going to be a chore…”

The crease between his brows smoothed. His mouth twitched into a smile.

“I don’t mind,” he said softly.

The constant spinning made her a little dizzy. As did the proximity of their body. The steps did not come easily, but she did learn very quickly that the methodical nature of the dance did not clip away any of the romance.

Her violet blush returned.

Pressed against his chest, she could not help but stare up into his face. He never met her eyes. There had been a time or two he’d focused on her nose, but his shyness had increased with each step. Each turn.

A beautiful red overwhelmed his face. Clearing his throat, he released her and backed away.

“Are we done?” she asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“For now, I think.”

Their lessons did not pick up again until the next party. It was the first time she had not been the one to ask. Perhaps he had taken pity on her. Regardless, she was not going to complain. It was always so much nicer to have a partner than to waltz with the air.

Not everyone on the floor was dancing the Zemnian way, but the tempo was just right for it.

“You’re getting the hang of this, you know?” he said.

“Well, I’m very talented.”

“That is true.”

Why did he always do that? Take a joke and turn it back around, making her heart tremble.

Long before their first kiss, they were silently committed to one another on the dance floor.

“Come on, Caleb. Time to dance.”

“I think that gentleman there is interested in dancing with you,” said Caleb.

Jester glanced at the stranger without really seeing him. She shrugged. “You’re my dance partner.”

Their skill began to decline. Their movements grew messy. She had known her reasons for misstepping. No amount of practice would calm the flutters she felt when they swayed. Caleb did his best to compensate. She was once heartbreakingly convinced that this meant that there were no nerves, no feelings of desire on his part.

Kisses and confessions tidied up the rough edges. Time made the whole practice mindless. There was no longer any asking – they would just dance. Alone or on the dance floor. To music or to Caleb’s off-key humming. All either of them had to do was hold out a hand before being pulled into a waltz.

Jester blinked away the flip book, forcing herself to re-enter the moment, to Caleb’s hand as it now was. Cold. Limp.

_Please_

Colour returned to Caleb’s cheek. The warmth bloomed in his fingertips.

Jester breathed out.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY WJ WEEK BABIES. 
> 
> Please kudos/comment if you enjoyed


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